


Your Wish is My Law

by wyntre



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Fluff and Smut, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Wine, so much wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntre/pseuds/wyntre
Summary: Right now, however, Will wanted to punch that smug smirk off Hannibal’s stupid face. He gulped down the last of his wine, wishing he had something stronger to take the edge off.





	Your Wish is My Law

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a photo I saw of Mads with scruff and messy hair that honestly looked like he'd just had sex and I had a lot of feelings.
> 
> I have no shame anymore. I promise I'm writing the next story in The Space Between Words. I'll put the photo in question at the end so you understand my pain. 
> 
> Title from Type O Negative's "Love You To Death" because I'm Peter Steele trash.

The safe house was built into the cliff, suspended above the roiling Atlantic on struts. It was painted white, faced the west and furnished simply. At dusk, the kitchen would flood with the dying rays of the sun, as Hannibal stood as best he could, over the stove, stirring a pot.

His hair had started to grow out, more grey streaking it now than ever before. He dressed simply, linen slacks and loosely fitted white linen shirts with the cuffs rolled back to his elbows. Will found himself fighting back the urge to run his fingers over the gently sculpted forearms. An urge that had always been bubbling below the surface, but that now threatened to burst and overwhelm him.

Will’s smile was lopsided, the nerve damage from the fight with Dolarhyde had permanently changed his face. His beard was longer than ever, and when he stood on the porch overlooking the sea, he found himself counting the days he spent with Hannibal. Hannibal found him even more endearing and something that had been only explored in hurried kisses in the dark, hearts racing, sympathetic nervous systems heightened, began to boil.

* * *

 

Hannibal’s sharp cheekbones were highlighted by the two day growth that shadowed his chin. Something about the scruff struck a chord deep in Will and when Hannibal joined him on the porch, handed him a glass of cool white wine and planted himself on a chair, Will found it hard to look anywhere but the doctor. Hannibal smirked a little as he noticed that he was the focus of Will’s attentions.

 _Asshole_ , Will thought to himself as he sipped a decent chardonnay through clenched teeth. His eyes followed the line of Hannibal’s jaw, down his neck to the top of his chest that was exposed by the two undone top buttons. Hannibal knew exactly how to ruffle him. If you had told him when he started tracing the Chesapeake Ripper that he would wind up drinking on a balcony with the very man he had sworn to apprehend he would have laughed at you. But Will hadn’t counted on Hannibal walking into his life, taking it apart and putting it back together in a form nearly unrecognisable. It didn’t help that the older man was impossibly handsome and smart.  
Right now, however, Will wanted to punch that smug smirk off Hannibal’s stupid face. He gulped down the last of his wine, wishing he had something stronger to take the edge off.

“More wine?” Hannibal offered. He topped up Will’s glass, deliberately brushing his fingers over Will’s under the pretext of holding the glass steady. Will huffed, trying his best to ignore the heat between them. Hannibal settled back in his chair, watching the sunset. He wasn’t an idiot, knew exactly what Will wanted, but wasn’t sure if he was willing to give it to him just yet. Will had wanted him from the moment they’d met in Jack’s office, not that he was one to admit it; and Hannibal – well Hannibal had wanted Will. And Hannibal always got what he wanted in the end.

In a way, they already had each other. Twisted and wrapped around, a Möbius strip of physical intimacy, emotions and thoughts; born from equal parts necessity and co-dependency.

The sun dipped lower, and Will watched a bead of sweat as it made its way down Hannibal’s sharp jawline and dropped into the hollow of his throat. It was a particularly warm, humid spring day; the proximity to the sea doing very little to ease it. Hannibal finished the rest of his wine and glanced over at Will, feeling his bright blue eyes boring holes in his head. He decided another bottle was in order, and headed inside to fetch one. He emerged a minute later with two smaller glasses and a bottle of Muscat de Beaumes de Venise.  
“Celebrating, are we?” Will mused, as Hannibal poured the sweet, fortified wine.  
Hannibal just smiled at him, hunger gracing the edges of his lips, and ensconced himself in his chair.

* * *

  
“You know, Dr Lecter, one would say that you were trying to get me drunk.” Will was lying on the floor, trying to stop the room spinning. It was their fourth bottle of wine, and Hannibal, whom Will had never seen drunk; was slumped on the sofa, staring off into the middle distance, glass hanging limply from his long fingers.  
“One would say so.” The alcohol thickening his accent until it was almost unrecognisable.  
“Men our age shouldn’t drink so much.” Will said, struggling to sit up and opting to prop himself on his elbows when it didn’t quite work.  
Hannibal looked at him sharply. “Speak for yourself, I have all my faculties.” As if to prove a point, he stood; teetering momentarily and then stumbling to the bathroom to relieve his bursting bladder.  
Will stifled a laugh. “What was that about faculties?” He called at Hannibal’s retreating back, his eyes lingered a little too long on his backside; encased in slacks that fit a little too well. _Oh hell._ He finished his glass of wine, noticed the bottle was empty, and headed into the kitchen to find something stronger.  


“We have vodka,” Hannibal appeared behind him in the kitchen.  
“Jesus do you have to sneak around like a goddamn cat?” Will yelled, frightened in his drunken state. Hannibal just laughed at him. “I think I shouldn’t have anymore.” Will’s mouth had gone dry, Hannibal was extremely close. His hazel eyes looking down at him like he was something to be devoured.  
“Why ever not?” Hannibal asked, pressing closer to Will, boxing him in against the kitchen counter.  
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the proximity of Hannibal; but the room had gotten about twenty degrees warmer and _had he always been this big?_ Will thought, feeling dwarfed by Hannibal’s broad shoulders and chest despite being almost as tall as him. Hannibal gently tipped Will’s head up, drinking in how his face had changed over the years they’d known each other. Will, overtaken by something primal, closed the space between their mouths. It was hungry, searching; Hannibal pressed his bulk into Will’s chest and Will grabbed handfuls of Hannibal’s shirt, crushing the fine material. When they could take no more, they broke apart; breathing heavily. Hannibal threaded his fingers through Will’s curls.  
“Is this what you were hoping for when we started drinking this evening?” Will murmured, still struggling to catch his breath. He gazed at Hannibal, all intense blue eyes and dark lashes.  
“I was hoping for something else, but this will do.”  
“You don’t have to get me drunk for that.” The words left Will’s mouth before he realised and hung heavy between them. Hannibal just raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, of course you knew.”

* * *

 

They managed to make it to the sofa, shedding clothes along the way. Will stopped for a moment and ran his hands over Hannibal’s chest, mapping the muscles and scars. Hannibal kissed him again, roughly this time; pinning him into the sofa. He was impressively strong, and Will felt a mixture of both safety and terror as the doctor straddled him; large hands holding his shoulders fast into the soft cushions as Hannibal’s lips found their way down Will’s exposed neck. Will gasped and arched when Hannibal bit into his shoulder, drawing blood and sucking on it for a moment before drawing back with a grin.  
“Like that?” Hannibal purred, his voice deeper than usual, accent thickened with lust and wine. “I’ll keep it in mind.”  
“You look like you want to eat me.”  
“Well, you are delicious.” Hannibal brushed a hand over Will’s clothed hardness; the only thing separating them was two pairs of thin underwear.  
“Jerk.” Will choked out, as Hannibal continued his assault on his neck.  
“Careful, William, you know I don’t abide rudeness.” Hannibal rubbed the heel of his hand over Will’s manhood, eliciting a delightful moan from the younger man. “I could just leave you like this, get up, go to bed.”  
“You wouldn’t dare.”  
“I am a man of great patience.”  
Will thought for a moment as best he could with Hannibal clouding his senses. “Sir.”  
Hannibal’s reaction was instant. He grabbed Will’s arms and restrained them above his head using a single hand, before placing the other down the front of Will’s boxers and taking Will’s long, slender dick in hand. “What did you say?” Hannibal’s voice was low, and dangerous.  
“Sir,” Will barely whispered in response.  
Hannibal winked at him, before slowly starting to move his hand up and down Will’s hardness. “My, aren’t you a little whore?” Will cried out when Hannibal’s thumb ran over his slit.

* * *

 

They fell apart together, Will tied to the bed; Hannibal above him, thrusting in and out with a jagged rhythm. Hannibal choked on Will’s name as he came, and pulled out. He stayed still a moment, catching his breath; before untying Will.  
“Are you ok?” Hannibal asked, as Will rubbed his wrists.  
Will flashed a wanton smile at him. “Never better.”

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> The offending photo I mentioned:


End file.
